"
"Why are you saying this?" the mother asked in a low, sorrowful voice.
"It's necessary," he answered sullenly. "It's necessary that your
hair shouldn't turn gray in vain, that your heart shouldn't ache for
nothing. Behold, boys! She's lost her son, but what of it? Has it
killed her? Nilovna, did you bring books?"
The mother looked at him, and after a pause said:
"I did."
"That's it," said Rybin, striking the table with the palm of his hand.
"I knew it at once when I saw you. Why need you have come here, if
not for that?" He again measured the young men with his eyes, and
continued, solemnly knitting his eyebrows: "Do you see? They thrust
the son out of the ranks, and the mother drops into his place."
He suddenly struck the table with both hands, and straightening
himself said with an air that seemed to augur ill:
"Those----" --here he flung out a terrible oath-- "those people
don't know what their blind hands are sowing. They WILL know when
our power is complete and we begin to mow down their cursed grass.
They'll know it then!"
The mother was frightened. She looked at him, and saw that Mikhail's
face had changed greatly. He had grown thinner; his beard was
roughened, and his cheek bones seemed to have sharpened.
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